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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006389">I'm just curious (is it serious?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerOnTilMorning/pseuds/QueerOnTilMorning'>QueerOnTilMorning</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak Is Dumb And Maybe A Little Jealous, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mike Hanlon Loves Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon's Post-Canon Road Trip: The Horny Version, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Porn with Friendship, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris Lives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:54:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerOnTilMorning/pseuds/QueerOnTilMorning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Less than a month after coming out as gay, comedian Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier was spotted looking very cozy with a male friend at the beach near his home in LA. The two were never far from each other, and Tozier even snuck a kiss on the other man's cheek. Could it be that Tozier is already off the market? Representatives of the comedian say his handsome companion is a childhood friend with whom Tozier recently reconnected, but refused to say how deep that connection goes. Still, considering how much happier Tozier looks here than any time we've seen him recently, we doubt this is the last we'll hear about Mike Hanlon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mike Hanlon/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'm just curious (is it serious?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>RICHIE TOZIER: ONE MAN'S TRASHMOUTH?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Less than a month after coming out as gay, comedian Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier was spotted looking very cozy with a male friend at the beach near his home in LA. The two were never far from each other, and Tozier even snuck a kiss on the other man's cheek. Could it be that Tozier is already off the market? Representatives of the comedian say his handsome companion is a childhood friend with whom Tozier recently reconnected, but refused to say how deep that connection goes. Still, considering how much happier Tozier looks here than any time we've seen him recently, we doubt this is the last we'll hear about Mike Hanlon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie's phone is blowing the fuck up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His Twitter notifications are ridiculous, he's getting calls from reporters around the country, there's an interview request from the Advocate, and his publicist has a lot of questions. But he's ignoring all that right now, because the most important conversation is happening in the Losers' group chat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: holy shit!!! Richie and Mikey are dating???</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill: why didn't you tell us?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: obviously not. they would have said something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ben: congratulations!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: these fucking tabloid vultures. this is an invasion of your privacy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: congratulations to Richie</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: condolences to Mike</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: lolololololololololol</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: ?????</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: if I say no comment will you all please persist in believing I can land a guy as hot as Mike</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill: so you're not dating?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: NO FFS</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: it's sensationalist bullshit and we should all ignore it</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: Richie, you're beautiful. Mike should be so lucky</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: MIKE'S NOT EVEN GAY</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: neither was ur dad until I got to him</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: go fuck yourself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: how do you know Mike hasn't already taken care of that???</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears Mike snort. They're sprawled perpendicular to each other on the two stylishly mismatched couches in Richie's living room, both scrolling through their phones. This is one of the reasons Mike makes a great houseguest: he doesn't demand constant entertainment. He's more than happy to just lie around, occasionally showing each other memes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Feel free to step in and defend your reputation," Richie says. "Obviously if you were gay you'd aim higher than this."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike twists his head around and gives Richie a look. He thinks it might be the "stop being so fucking self-deprecating, you cherished and beloved shitbag" look that all his friends are getting so good at, but it's hard to be sure when Mike is sort of upside down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: when you all decide what's actually going on here will someone fill me in</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ben: I thought you both looked nice in that picture</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mike: um, I am</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: what, nice? we know u r but what am I?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mike: gay</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: help I've been hate crimed</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, you idiot," says Mike out loud. "I'm gay."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whoa!" Richie snaps his head around to stare at Mike. "For real? Since fucking when?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"According to Lady Gaga, since about 1976," Mike deadpans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie sits up. "Dude, wait. How did I not know this? Am I the only one who didn't know this?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike laughs and holds up his phone. "Clearly not."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: the plot thickens!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill: so you are dating?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: what the fuck, Rich?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: is this just like the thing now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ben: Mike, nothing will ever change how much I love you or how proud I am to call you a friend. Thank you for telling us.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: is it something in the fucking water in la?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dude, do you think Eddie is, like, weird about gay people?" Richie asks Mike. He tries to keep his tone light, but he's stung. This is very similar to the way Eddie reacted when Richie came out, and Richie didn't like it then, either. It makes him feel defensive and a little sad. It's not like he thought that Eddie's divorce would mean a fairytale ending to the crush Richie's been nursing for decades, but it would be nice if he was less of a dick about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," Mike says. "I never exactly debated social issues with his mom, but if I had to guess, I'd say she probably wasn't a big fan of the gay rights movement. Eddie might have absorbed some… problematic stuff, growing up in that house."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Richie mutters. After all these years, he still feels a shiver of dread when he thinks about Sonia Kaspbrak. He made a lot of jokes about Eddie's mom back then (okay, and also recently), but as with most of Richie's jokes, they were a clumsy sleight of hand to distract from a deep and real fear. It was the way she looked at him, with pitiless disgust, as though he were a bug about to be crushed under her shoe. He was afraid she was right to be disgusted by him. He was afraid she'd convince Eddie to feel the same way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"But he's still Eddie," Mike says. "He's still our friend. He's already done so much work to unlearn all the garbage she put in his head."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Divorcing her was a good place to start," Richie agrees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He'll come around," says Mike.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: take it down several notches Edward</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: Jerry falwell lied to you</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: the gays don't recruit and they're not trying to turn your kids</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stan: Mike, ditto what Ben said, but less sappy</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: fuck you bro</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: I fucking know that</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill: so are you guys dating or not?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: and fuck you for thinking I would watch jerry fucking falwell</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie smirks and is starting to type a reply when his phone buzzes with another incoming message. It's also from Eddie, but this one is for him alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: I'm not fucking homophobic dude</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck?" Richie says. It's eerie, sometimes, the way Eddie picks up on what he's thinking, even from across the country.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: I didn't say you were!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: you didn't tell me about you and Mike</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: I'm supposed to be your best friend</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: you can tell me shit like that</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Eddie's irritation makes a little more sense. He's always hated being out of the loop. Sometimes, when they were kids, Richie would pretend to be whispering something to Bev or Stan when he saw Eddie coming, just to watch Eddie's face turn scarlet demanding to know what the fuck they were talking about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: dude, if I were dating Mike, you are the first person I would tell</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: before I hired a skywriter to announce it to all of southern California</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: GUESS WHO'S FUCKING AN OBJECTIVELY HOT PERSON</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: so you're not dating Mike but you think he's hot?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: come on, bro. you're straight, not dead. he's hot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: whatever</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: just</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eds: you can tell me shit</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For Eddie, that probably counts as opening up emotionally. Richie is oddly touched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: thanks man. I know</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flips back to the group text.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mike: no, Richie and I aren't dating. he just found out I'm gay at the same time the rest of you did.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: OMG Richie guess what</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bill: good</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: ???</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: my hottest friend just came out as gay!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Richie: lmaooooooooo</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ben: hottest?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bev: you want his number?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie leans back on the couch and laughs. God, he loves these people.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you know back then?" Richie asks. They're in a sunny corner booth at a brunch place, even though it's two in the afternoon, which is definitively lunchtime. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Late</span>
  </em>
  <span> lunchtime. But they're two single gay men, footloose and fancy-free in the big city, and they can have omelettes whenever they damn well please.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Know what?" Mike sips his beer. Richie doesn't get that. Surely part of the point of being openly gay is unabashedly ordering the bottomless mimosas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That you were gay." He's been trying to remember whether there were signals he missed, opportunities for shared understanding that slipped past him unnoticed. If Richie had known he wasn't the only gay Loser, it might have made things a lot easier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I was just starting to figure it out the summer we all met," Mike says. "I wasn't ready to admit it to myself, but then… something happened. With the clown."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't touch the other boys, Richie.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He grimaces. "Fuck. You too, huh?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"At first I thought it was Bill. He asked if I wanted to ride on his bike. But then he started saying all these weird things, and his face just got meaner and meaner until it wasn't Bill anymore. And I should have realized, Bill would never say anything like that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No," Richie agrees. Then he does a double take. "Wait. It was Bill for you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," says Mike. "Maybe because he was sort of in charge, you know, he represented--"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*That's not why," Richie says, a grin spreading across his face. "Mikey, you dog, you had a thing for Big Bill! Oh, you wanted to ride on his bike, all right."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can't believe I actually missed you," Mike says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh my God. Bill was your gay awakening. That makes, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much sense." They had all worshipped Bill a little, hadn't they? Richie remembers his long legs, the way he took charge when they were all afraid. He's kind of surprised </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> never caught feelings for Big Bill, but there was only one boy that Richie swooned over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, maybe."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Was it weird seeing him again? Could he still get it?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike shrugs, looking defensive, but then his face softens. "I mean, yes," he admits. "If he ever… if that would ever…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I feel you," Richie reassures him, thinking about the way his stomach plummeted when he looked across the Jade and saw Eddie. God, those huge brown eyes in that narrow face. He was helpless, even after all these years. Maybe it was different if you actually went out with your first love, or kissed them, or held their hand. Or even if you told them how you felt and watched their face fall as they struggled to let you down easy. Maybe then you had a chance to move through it, to process the hurt and disillusionment and go on with your life. Maybe. Richie will never know, will he? And it sounds like Mike won't either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It was Eddie for you, wasn't it?" Mike says with that same soft look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie's first impulse is to deny it, a reflex he's trained into himself over the course of decades. But he swallows the lie as it rises to his lips. This is the first opportunity he's ever had to tell the truth to someone who understands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, fuck yeah," he says, trying to sound nonchalant and failing utterly. "Still is."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I thought so," says Mike. "The way you lost it when he got hurt…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what I would have done if he'd died down there," Richie says honestly. "I don't think I would have made it out. I'd have stayed with him."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike nods, and from the look on his face Richie knows he's thinking about Bill. Then he says slowly, "So…. can I ask…?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I knew way before that summer," Richie says. "I was, like, nine or ten."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's cool," says Mike. "But I was actually going to ask you, uh…" A grin breaks across his handsome face. "Why Eddie?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie is startled into laughter. Mike keeps going. "I mean, was it the hypochondria? The anger issues? The fanny pack?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The fucking fanny pack," Richie cackles. "I had sex dreams about guys in fanny packs for years and I never knew why."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike nods. "Yeah. Lot of erotic potential there."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know, man," Richie says. "It's nothing specific about him, or like, it is, but it's not just one thing. It's just… it's him." He feels stupid and inarticulate. He's never tried to explain </span>
  <em>
    <span>why Eddie</span>
  </em>
  <span> before. No one has ever asked, and the fact of his love for Eddie is so huge and all-encompassing he's never bothered to question it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Mike just says, "I get that," and reaches across the table to squeeze Richie's hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After that, everything gets easier. Having Mike around was already relaxing, but now it's like a knot is untwisted in Richie's brain and he can stop obsessing about every word that comes out of his mouth. He can be honest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They tell each other everything about the in-between years: the fear, the loneliness, the passions and heartbreaks. Like Richie, Mike has had few boyfriends and no serious ones. He's less emotionally stunted than the rest of them, since he got to keep his traumatic childhood memories and process them over time. Still, his occult research, diligent tracking of child disappearances, and encyclopedic biographical knowledge of four minor celebrities and two random dudes made it difficult to let anyone all the way in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just the tip?" Richie quips when Mike tells him this, and Mike puts him in a headlock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That's something else about their new closeness. Richie remembers Mike as a self-contained kid, not exactly standoffish, but certainly not one to get drawn into his and Eddie's wrestling matches. These days, though, Mike is just as tactile as Richie. He throws an arm around Richie's shoulders while they walk, puts his feet in Richie's lap when they watch movies on the couch, kisses Richie on the forehead before they go to bed. The physical comfort of touch seems to soothe Mike as much as it does Richie, and this quiets the anxiety that's hummed in the back of Richie's mind for decades, the fear of being too needy, wanting too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie has spent years wishing in vain for a boyfriend, a lover, a partner. Now he has something he never thought to hope for, but something, maybe, he needed even more all along: a gay friend. Someone he can hold without apology or explanation, without opening himself up to immolating desire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I always get way too invested, even when I don't like the guy that much," he admits one evening. They're sprawled out on the couch again, Mike's ankles crossed on Richie's thigh, a few empty beer bottles on the coffee table. "Usually I'm fine with no one wanting me, but the second someone does, I lose my fucking mind trying to keep them."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Richie," Mike admonishes. "Don't do that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I know," he says. "I need to just accept my destiny as a pity fuck."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Man, you know that's not what I meant," Mike says. "Don't act like you don't know you're good-looking. I've seen what people tweet about you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie chuckles self-consciously. "None of those people have seen me up close and personal," he says. "I'm not like you, dude. I'm only hot from a distance."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike pokes Richie in the ribs with his big toe. "No, you're sexy," he says earnestly. "You've got shoulders. And a great smile."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's not me, that's your reflection in my glasses," Richie says. The compliments, combined with the beer in his belly, make him feel warm and strange. "Anyway, if I'm so sexy, why haven't I gotten laid in the last two years?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I haven't either," Mike points out. "If that's your yardstick for measuring attractiveness then we're both trolls."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie laughs. "I think it has more to do with lack of trying on your part."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, and are you out there meeting guys? Or are you lying around at home on a Saturday night with an unemployed librarian?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"An unemployed librarian who's a fucking snack," Richie says. "At least I'm hanging out somewhere I know is frequented by a hot dude."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, so am I," Mike snaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Huh," says Richie. "You got me. It's weird that we're not both getting laid right now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," says Mike, and he holds Richie's gaze for a long moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warm feeling in Richie's stomach expands, fills him with liquid heat. He's not drunk, but he feels a little drunk. Richie, who has always had a thing for big, expressive brown eyes, notices with a slight flutter that Mike has big, expressive brown eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand is on Mike's ankle, where it's been resting for the last ten minutes. Suddenly, that point of contact feels electric with meaning. Richie strokes his thumb back and forth over Mike's warm skin, the tendon above his heel. Still making eye contact, Mike smiles at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What are you thinking here, buddy?" Richie asks. His voice is hoarse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Richie," Mike says tenderly. "Do you know, I think you're my best friend."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie lunges forward and kisses him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike's mouth opens, hot and welcoming, drawing Richie in. They've been drinking the same beer, so Mike tastes just like an extension of himself. It's a little clumsy at first, two tall guys trying to make out on a couch, but Richie gets a leg on either side of Mike's and then he's straddling him, Mike's hands on his waist, Mike's chin tilted up to kiss Richie long and deep and breathless, and that's… yeah, that's really good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike tugs at the hem of Richie's t-shirt. "Can I take this off?" Richie can't remember the last time a guy asked so nicely. Asked him anything at all, really. The kind of men he usually takes home aren't big on communication. He nods, fearing his voice will break if he speaks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Mike pulls the shirt off in one smooth motion and throws it to the floor, Richie has a sharp, cold pang of self-consciousness. He's trying to believe Mike meant it when he called Richie good-looking, but he's seen Mike shirtless enough to know there's a big difference between them in terms of, like, sculpting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just imagine it's Big Bill's wiry little bod on top of you," Richie mutters into Mike's mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike pulls back and fixes him with a stare like a vise. "Richie," he says, shaping his mouth carefully around the syllables. Even Richie's name sounds safe on Mike's lips. "I'm not thinking about Bill right now. This is me and you. Okay?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Richie whispers, trembling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I want you," says Mike. He runs a hand up Richie's side, then cups a soft pec, circling the nipple with his thumb. "You're my friend and I love you and I want to make you feel good. Do you want me?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Um, yeah, dude," Richie says, glancing down at the corroborating evidence in his sweatpants. Mike follows his gaze, and Richie hears him take in a deep breath. His fingers dig into the flesh of Richie's chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Mike wraps a hand around the back of Richie’s neck and drags him down into another kiss. This one is still gentle--apparently that’s the only way Mike does things--but so intense it’s like slow violence, like Mike’s tongue is splitting him open from the soft palate down. Richie moans, a low sound that feels like it comes all the way from his groin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike freezes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie goes red all over with shame. He’s crossed a line he forgot to be on the lookout for, and now, now--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Richie, that was hot,” Mike whispers. “Do that again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he cups his broad hand over the bulge in Richie’s sweatpants, and Richie can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span> moaning. He rocks his hips, grinding his ass into Mike’s lap as Mike palms his erection. Shifting his weight forward brings him in contact with Mike’s dick, and even through flannel pajama pants, it’s a goddamn revelation. Richie needs to get his hands on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slides out of Mike’s lap, gratified by the way the other man whines a little when their lips part. “You’re way too dressed,” Richie says. As soon as he reaches for the waistband, Mike catches on, lifting his hips so Richie can yank the flannel pants off without impediment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike sleeps commando, which is a detail Richie wishes he’d known earlier for the purposes of fantasizing, but even if he’d jerked off to this a thousand times it would never compare to this moment. That enormous, beautiful Mike has an enormous, beautiful dick isn't exactly a surprise, but it's still a glorious discovery. "Jesus," Richie says, and goes to climb on top of it again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Mike stops him with a hand, light as a snowflake on Richie's shoulder. "Would you--um, could you please stay there?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie grins up at him and settles back down on his knees. "Mikey, it would be an honor and a privilege to suck your dick."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Richie," Mike says again--so softly, so sweetly, like the name is a tiny egg in the palm of his hand, with something rare and precious inside. Richie loves him so much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's never done this for someone he loves before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's been quite a while since he's done this at all, actually, so Richie starts slow, wrapping his hand around the base of Mike's cock and squeezing gently while he swirls his tongue around the head. He moans again at the taste. God, everything about Mike is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He sucks a drop from the tip, savoring its bitterness, then gets down to business.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A little at a time, Richie relaxes his mouth and throat, working Mike deeper and deeper in. There's a spot toward the back of his tongue that Richie could swear is wired directly to his dick, and every time Mike glides over it Richie throbs in response. He chokes a little, exaggerating the sound for Mike's benefit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike bites down on two knuckles to stifle his groan, but Richie hears it anyway, resonating through his body. His lips already feel raw and sensitive where they're stretched around Mike's girth. With an obscene pop, he pulls off just long enough to spit in his hand and smear it around the base where even Richie's big mouth can't reach. Then he sinks down again, sucking his cheeks in, massaging the underside with his tongue, digging his fingers into the meat of Mike's strong thighs. Mike’s pubic hair is trimmed short and neat, the smell of him hot and earthy and clean.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Richie, that's so good, it feels so good," Mike says, his voice low and breathless. If his lips weren't otherwise occupied, Richie would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>beaming.</span>
  </em>
  <span> (Yes, of course he has a praise kink. Anyone who’s spent thirty seconds with Richie Tozier could safely assume he has a praise kink.) "Oh, your mouth…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lifts his head again. "It's good for something after all, huh?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike makes the face again, and Richie thinks for a second he's going to scold him for disparaging himself, but instead Mike just says, "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie's face flushes. He didn't even know it was possible to blush while sucking dick. "What way?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're amazing," Mike says simply. Richie doesn't know how to reply to that, so he settles for licking wetly around Mike's balls until the sounds coming out of his mouth aren't words anymore. When Mike starts gasping, the muscles in his thighs beginning to spasm, Richie takes his cock in his mouth again. He barely has time to find a rhythm before Mike is shaking and cursing and coming down his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, Richie lets Mike slide out of his mouth. He licks his lips and tries to catch his breath, pressing a kiss to Mike’s inner thigh. Mike looks completely debauched, sprawled on Richie’s couch with his legs spread wide, still wearing his soft cotton t-shirt, now sweaty and clinging to his body. He’s panting, but when he says “Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>here,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” his voice is strong enough that Richie obeys without a second thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike takes Richie’s cock in his hand and jerks him off, firm and steady. “You’re so good, Richie,” he says over and over again. “You made me feel so good.” Richie gazes down in awe at his sweet, open face, his muscular shoulders, the veins standing out on his forearm, his hand, Jesus, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>hand--</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike stares up at him, his eyes the only still spot in the endless, shattering universe. Richie’s hips snap forward as he comes in Mike’s fist. “Yes,” Mike whispers, “yes, yes, yes.” Finally Richie collapses on Mike’s chest, and they stay that way for a long while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this weird?” Richie asks eventually. “Like, for our friendship?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike laughs almost silently, but Richie feels the vibrations. “I think this is the least weird thing we’ve ever done together.” He kisses Richie on the top of his head, and even though he’s just swallowed Mike’s come, the intimacy of the gesture makes him shiver.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Mikey,” says Richie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Mike says. “How do you feel about sharing a bed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sleepover style?” Richie grins. “That sounds great.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After only the most perfunctory cleanup, they both climb into Richie’s king-size bed. Mike’s breathing slows to sleep almost immediately, and Richie isn’t far behind him. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in months, except for the single anxious thought that threads its way through his dreams:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is Eddie going to think when he finds out?</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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